


The one in which Dean gets up close and personal with Cas' coat

by FluffyGremlin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-09
Updated: 2011-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-25 21:24:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyGremlin/pseuds/FluffyGremlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the following prompt:</p><p>Dean touching Castiel's coat, wearing it during masturbation, fucking it, smelling it... it doesn't matter.</p><p>It doesn't necessarily have to take place around episode 2 - it doesn't even need to take place in cannon and can be completely AU.</p><p>Dean, Cas' trench coat, go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The one in which Dean gets up close and personal with Cas' coat

Dean grumbled as he shifted again on the lumpy old sofa, casted leg angled up and away. Bobby and Sam were off somewhere, leaving the broken hunter to bask alone in his own misery.

“Fuck this.”

He pushed himself up and hopped over to where his bag was sitting open beside the door. Digging in it for that half full bottle of Jack he was sure was buried in there, his fingers brushed against rough material wadded up in the bottom of the bag. Dean closed his eyes for a moment before pulling it out carefully. Cas’ trenchcoat, worn and torn and stained, unfurled in the room like a pair of broken wings.

Dean rubbed his thumb in small circles along the material, feeling the ache in his chest he normally tried to drink away come back full force.

“Damnit,” he says, his jaw clenched tight. He hobbles back to the sofa and plops down carelessly, letting his leg stretch out in front of him under the coffee table, the coat spreading out over his lap. He resists the urge to sniff it but lets himself feel it, his hands running over the material where it is laid out on his thighs. The trenchcoat rustles quietly under his ministrations, reminding him of all the times he’d touched Cas, the angel always so warm under his hands. A friendly pat here, a steadying hand there. The way the other man’s muscles had shifted under his palm as he’d helped him stand after releasing the souls back into Purgatory.

His hands never stopped moving as he dropped his head back and closed his eyes. He thought of Cas’ small smiles, the way he was always so close, the way his eyes had looked past every wall Dean put up until he found his very soul. Memories flicker by until they morph into something more. Something that is hot and wanting and every friendly touch holds the promise of something more.

Dean’s hands move up as he starts to imagine touching Cas. Calloused fingers rub along slick material, digging into soft inner thighs until his legs are sitting wide and wanton. He can feel his pulse speeding up as his cock starts to harden against the zipper of his jeans, but he doesn’t release it yet, instead letting the pressure build as he continues moving his hands up and down his thighs.

He finally allows his one hand travel up to press against the hardness of his cock, his hips jerking up against his palm as the fingers of his other hand dig harder into his thigh through the material.

“Damnit,” Dean sighs as he undoes the button and zipper on his jeans. He hisses quietly as he releases his erection and the sensitive head brushes against the trenchcoat that still lays over his lap. The inside of the coat is soft and it creates the most exquisite friction against his cock as he loosely grips it through the material. He braces his good leg so that he can tilt his hips more, thrusting up into his fist.

The rapid sound of cotton slip sliding along his skin joins his harsh breathing in filling the small cabin with a cacophony of erotic sound. He bites his lip as he imagines Cas’ hands, Cas’ lips, Cas’ too bright eyes staring down at him as he presses against him. The heat building at the base of his spine leaves him shivering, gasping out Castiel’s name again and again as if it was the only prayer he knew.

He slips one hand under the coat to brush against his balls where they lay on top of his jeans, rolling them and reveling in the warmth contrasting the coolness of the trenchcoat hugging his cock. It doesn’t take much longer until he can feel his balls tighten in his grasp, his cock swelling as the thought of blue eyes boring into his as pink lips wrapped around his cock.

One more thrust of his hips. One more twisting drag of his hand. One more rustle of material as it moves against him.

The orgasm nearly blinds him, the entire world holding its breath for that one perfect moment.

When it’s over and he’s back to watching telanovelas he tries not to think of the cum stained coat shoved back in the bottom of his bag by day and under his pillow by night. He tries not to think of the tears that he’ll never admit have fallen when no one can see.

He focuses on fixing his brother and surviving one more day and if his dreams are filled with a certain blue-eyed angel then who is he to complain.


End file.
